I figured, this was it. Then the weirdest sound I'd ever
heard echoed through the basement. It was like a song or a chant,
but in some other language.
The Viking heard it too, and froze. All
life disappeared from its eyes and it was a statue again. Another
figure appeared in the flashlight beam, and this one was shaped kind
of like a bear.
"Is your friend all right?" Mr. Johanssen asked.
"He fainted," I managed to say.
"Let's get him to my office," Mr. Johanssen said, kneeling
down and picking up Brian like he was a doll. "Shine the light ahead
of me."
"What was that thing?" I croaked as we walked through the
darkness.
"It was found buried when they were digging the foundation
for this school," Mr. Johanssen answered. "And if I'm right, it
sailed to this continent a thousand years before that."
A thousand years?
We were in his office now, and I was glad to see light. He
set Brian down on a beat-up old couch.
"But that thing was made of wood!" I said. "How can it
move?"
Mr. Johanssen went to a first aid kit on the wall and pulled
some smelling salts out. "How indeed?" he said. "Legend tells us the
Vikings were fiercer, braver, stronger and harder to stop than
anyone else in history. Ever wonder why they were so tough? Maybe
it's because they weren't really human at all. Maybe they were
really warrior statues made of wood or stone and then brought to
life through some kind of ancient Norse magic, magic that has been
long forgotten... by most people."
Then he smiled at me in a really creepy way that made my
skin crawl, and held the smelling salts under Brian's nose. Brian
came to, coughing.
"Now then," Mr. Johanssen said, "I'll make a deal with you
two. I won't tell the principal you were down here if you promise
never to come back." We promised and then got out of there as fast
as we could.
Brian remembered nothing about the Viking, and when I tried
to tell him about it, he just looked at me like I was crazy. And
frankly, I thought maybe I was, too, until one day a month or so
later. I had stayed late for a band rehearsal and just as I was
leaving the building, I saw Mr. Johanssen loading a piano into the
freight elevator. Right before the elevator door closed, I noticed
that someone was helping him.
Someone wearing a Viking helmet.

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Michael Mallory lives in the greater Los Angeles, where he writes
mystery and scary stories for kids and adults.